Designated Driver
by Wu the Stoic
Summary: Quatre's adventure with three drunken ex-pilots. During rush hour. Rated T for drunkenness.


Don't own Gundam Wing or anything to do with it. Just a fic, no money made. You know the drill.

"Wufei, this is Quatre. The stakeout went off without a hitch. The arresting officers are poised and ready. I've got the kids and am taking them home."

"Home?" Wufei's voice came back over the earpiece curiously. "They need to come back to Headquarters for a debriefing."

"As much as I'd like to be able to acquiesce, that simply isn't possible."

"Enlighten me, please."

"They couldn't break cover," he explained. "And apparently, they aren't able to hold their liquor…"

There was a long pause. "Acknowledged."

Quatre. Sweet, dependable, innocent, stubborn, loyal Quatre. Currently sweet, dependable, innocent, stubborn, loyal Quatre was sitting in the drivers seat of the new black SUV, the knuckles of his pale hands even whiter as he gripped the wheel tightly. _It was for the mission_ he reminded himself for the fifth time as he smacked the blinker and tried to get into the right hand lane. _For the mission…_

Beside him sat Trowa Barton, which, in and of itself wouldn't be such a stressful thing. However, Trowa was three sheets to the wind and finding it very impossible to sit up straight. Duo and Heero were in the back, being a little too quiet for Quatre's liking. And to make things even worse; they were stuck in a particularly nasty morning rush hour.

"Hey," Duo finally spoke up. His drunken tone deepened the simple word and pulled it out slowly.

"What is it, Duo?" Quatre asked after risking a glance at him in the rearview mirror.

"I uh…" there was a pregnant pause and then the sound of a seatbelt unbuckling. A pinprick of a headache began to form at the base of Quatre's skull. He'd only fought with Duo for fifteen minutes to get it latched once he managed to manhandle the braided wonder into the vehicle. That was probably the reason they were now stuck in rush hour. _I should have hog tied him and tossed him in the back. Maybe we would be rolling now if I didn't have to fight him so hard for his own safety_. Quatre thought bitterly.

"Duo, please sit back and buckle your seatbelt."

"I need'ta tell'ya," Duo said as his head materialized between the seats. Quatre was startled at Duo's countenance. Never had he seen such a serious expression in such dull eyes. This was drinking? _No_ thank you.

"Duo, would you please sit back down, I'm trying to drive," Quatre said calmly.

Duo swayed for a moment, and then just as slowly as he appeared, he slunk backwards towards his seat. "I forgot anyway," he said quietly. And then, for good measure, he repeated the phrase loudly, causing Trowa to groan and fall to his right, where the side of his head smacked into the glass. Quatre cringed for him, and then finally, was able to get into the right hand lane.

Doing forty in a seventy mile an hour zone was pure torture, but at least the vehicle was moving. Duo was singing softly, surprisingly on key, and Trowa seemed to be dozing with his head down. Quatre lifted his eyes, gazing at Heero in the rearview mirror for a moment, though he wasn't pleased with the near predatory expression that greeted him in the reflection.

"Are you alright, Heero?" Quatre asked quietly.

Heero slowly shook his head no.

"Do you need me to pull over?"

Again, Heero shook his head no. Quatre sighed and turned his eyes back to the road. The speed was finally picking up again. Hopefully they would make it to their dorms in time. What these boys needed were a couple of hours of hard sleep, some strong coffee and a long drawn out lecture by Wufei to get them out of their drunk. Quatre allowed himself the pleasure of escaping into his thoughts before traffic decided to slow down again. Lulled by the quiet backseat, he was suddenly startled as the back door opened abruptly.

"Duo!" he cried out, and then with a quick turn of his head, realized he was yelling at the wrong ex-pilot. Force of habit. Instead of Duo getting up to mischief, it had been Heero who had whipped the back door open and proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach along the roadway as they threaded through traffic at the exhilarating clip of thirty two miles an hour. Quatre groaned as he put on his brakes, but before he could think of pulling over, the door slammed and Heero righted himself into his seat, wiping his arm over his mouth. Without missing a beat, he pointed a shaky finger at Duo.

"It was him."

Quatre groaned and put his foot down a bit harder on the gas pedal. Ahead of him, red lights began to glow and he groaned again as he decelerated the vehicle. Now, they were at a complete stop.

"I los' the darts," Trowa informed his hands, which were lying on his lap, palms turned up.

Quatre slowly turned his head to look at Trowa, a frown furrowing his brow. "What did you guys drink, anyway?" He didn't really want to know, but at the same time, you didn't _really_ want to rubber neck that traffic accident, did ya?

"To killa mockin' bird," Duo snickered from the back.

"To what?" Quatre frowned.

"You know it," Duo said. "All night of it, whoo… mmmm…" he swayed into Heero, who only made a face and pushed Duo weakly away.

"Ate the worm," Trowa said slowly, his words staggering over his tongue.

"Tequila?" Quatre asked with dawning trepidation. Duo had once called it "Puke juice".

"Mmm," Trowa agreed as his head came up. He looked around, blinking blearily at the sunlight that was now making its grand entrance over the horizon.

"All of you?"

"Heero won," Duo said, and then leaned forward as he began to laugh in slow motion.

Trowa lifted his hand as his mouth suddenly began to fill with saliva. "Mmm," he said again and then turned, grabbing his door handle.

"Oh no…" Quatre said as the door was shoved open and his tall lover leaned forward, vomiting as well. Duo cheered from the back, and began to chant; "Tacos! Tacos! Tacos! I want tacos!"

"No tacos for you," Heero slurred as he sank lower into his seat. "No more tacos for anyone, tacos are…" he burped and then made a face at the sour taste that flooded his mouth. "ex… extin…" Joining Trowa, he opened his door, leaned out and began to vomit.

Duo blinked slowly at Heero as the agent once again leaned out of the open door, gripping Quatre's headrest for leverage as he vomited onto the roadway. The sound was horrible, but the smell was even worse. Trowa was hanging out his door as well and Duo suddenly remembered that he didn't have the strongest stomach in the world. "Quatre!"

"What Duo?" Quatre didn't really want Duo to even know his name at this point in time.

"Buckle me in!"

"Why?" came the nervous response.

"I'm gonna toss it and I don' wan' you runnin' over my head!"

Quickly, Quatre put the vehicle in park, unbuckled his own seatbelt, and then turned around. He leaned over until his rear was sticking out from between the front bucket seats and began to fuss with Duo.

"Duo, if you want me to buckle you in," Quatre ground out in a frustrated tone, "then _please_ stop fighting with me!"

"I'm helpin'!" Duo announced, burped and then quickly covered his mouth with one hand. That helped Quatre take the buckle out of the busy left hand and click it into place.

"Alright, Duo, puke!" the irate blond barked. Duo leaned forward only to receive a smart pop on the head. "The door! Open the door!"

Still leaning forward, Duo's hand came out, scrabbling madly for the handle. He pushed the door open, but still continued to lean down between his knees. Quatre reached out, shoving his shoulders and trying to aim him at the door when a pair of hands suddenly slid up along his exposed backside. He let out a squeak and turned and began to dislodge Trowa's questing hands from his body as Duo thankfully leaned to his right and began to vomit on the pavement. Quatre leaned forward again, grimacing at the smell wafting in. A horn honked behind them, causing Heero to lift his head.

"The traffic isn't moving!" Heero bellowed at the man behind them. "It isn't… mmm…" he leaned forward, vomited again and then undid his seatbelt. Quatre twisted around quickly, released himself from those strong hands of Trowa's and opened the door as Heero disappeared from the vehicle.

"Heero! Get back into the car!" Quatre begged. He had to jog to keep up with the ex-Wing pilot, who now had it in his head to go after a rather buff man in a green sports car.

 _Why why_ _ **why**_ _do drunks always start fights with guys bigger than they are?_ Quatre questioned as he ran to Heero's side. He gripped the right elbow and gave a sharp tug. "C'mon, it wasn't him, Heero. Let's get back in the car so we can go back to the dorms. C'mon, Heero, work with me here." But moving Heero was like trying to tickle a boulder, it just didn't make sense.

Heero swayed in place, pointing at the man as he scowled at him with mostly closed eyes.

"I'm sorry, he's drunk!" Quatre said, using his eyes to try to soften the man who to his eye, chugged steroids on a daily basis. "Don't mind him, hard night; partying… you know the drill."

Heero jerked his elbow out of Quatre's gasp, swayed once in place and then blinked his right eye a second before his left followed. "I'll blow you up, don't you forget that." Is what it sounded like in his mind. Cool, calm, collected. What came out was; "Blow you, forgettable pinhat."

Quatre groaned.

"Kick his ass, Heero!" Duo helped. He, too, had now escaped and Quatre was beginning to panic. Heero he could manage, Duo on the other hand, had a reputation when he got this plastered. A very nude reputation. Visions of the braided man bolting naked through the still parked cars of this nasty tangle began to dance before his eyes and a cool sweat formed on the back of his neck.

"Get back in the car, Duo, we got this!"

"I'm _hot_!" came the warning as Duo swayed in place. He was holding onto the spare tire on the back of the vehicle and Quatre panicked. "I wanna get NEKKID!" He cackled madly and leaned forward before vomiting once again. "and tacos…" he moaned. "Nekkid tacos…"

Always the one to think quickly on his feet, Quatre turned to his friend. "Heero, your mission is to get me safely to the SUV, can you do that?"

The tousled head nodded once and before Quatre could protest, he was lifted bodily up and over Heero's shoulder. Heero's gate was off and for a moment, Quatre wondered if he was going to land on the pavement head first. He highly doubted that he would be able to walk away from that as easily as Heero had been able to over the years. During the war, Heero had been great with catching himself by the face. Quatre had never been privy to that particular enjoyment. By the time they got to the vehicle, he was positive that he'd need to join the party and leave what was left of his late supper on the roadway with the three drunks.

Heero set him hard on his feet and contemplated Quatre with a calm, fuzzy gaze.

"Get in the car, Heero," Quatre said gently.

"I'm guarding you…"

"I know, now guard me in the car."

Heero nodded and climbed in.

"I'll ride… I'll go on the hood," Duo announced. "You can… I'll go on the hood."

"Duo, let's get back in, I think we're going to be moving again." By this time, Quatre was well aware that they were putting on quite the show for their fellow stranded commuters. However at this time, he simply didn't care. "Duo, let's get our shirt on and get back into the car!" he ran around to the passenger side, only to see a bare back and a braid disappear around the back of the vehicle.

"Crap! Duo!" Quatre paused. Was that such a wise choice of words? He let out a shudder and backtracked, meeting Duo by Heero's door.

He was just in time to steer Duo back to his seat and rebuckle his belt as traffic ahead began to roll. "We'll do this when we get home, you can have _all_ the naked time you want," Quatre said as he once again fought those busy hands. "At _home_." He shoved the discarded shirt onto Duo's lap.

"Soun's good," Duo sighed. The buckle went in with a click, the door slammed and Quatre darted to the open driver's side door. When he got in, applause erupted around him and he leaned forward, putting his face in his hands. Thankfully, Trowa had either fallen asleep or passed out, and the two drunks in the back where now leaning back in their seats, heavy eyes on the way to closing.

 _You owe me_ _ **big**_ _time for this, Wufei_ Quatre sighed as he put the car in gear, buckled his own belt and got them heading back to the dorms. The last thing he did, as he put the blinker on for the exit, was to hit the locks and then turn on the child protective lock feature. Why he didn't think of that before, he didn't know, but if there came a next time, he'd be ready.

Owari.


End file.
